Recalling something Cailleach told me many, many days ago, I nodded. “Generally speaking, when people like me are forced to get involved, we are long past subtle solutions, Cathal. That said, I want to minimize loss of life if at all possible. Every sword arm that ends up in a grave is one less protecting the Syr in the future. To that end, if killing only the Captain can get the camp here on our side, then I’ll do that. If more futures need to be cut short for that to happen, then so be it. Ultimately, our goal is to weaken Selyn’s position by any and all means while strengthening our own.”

  After several long seconds of silence, Cathal stood and, eyes focused on something only he could see, he walked off toward some shelves on the far side of the room. Curious, I held my tongue as he picked through their contents. He returned holding a bundle of thick cloth whose color seemed oddly undefined and shifting.

  “Captain Darren is almost unmatched with both sword and bow. Getting close to him won’t be easy if you’re planning on assassinating him.”

  I smirked. “Close? I just need him to stand still for a few seconds.”

  “Getting close enough to land an arrow without being spotted won’t be easy.”

  “When we’re ready to remove him from play, I just need to be in line of sight.”

  The elf slowly shook his head. “He’s warded against magic.”

  “It’s not magic, but the last elf I tried to explain that to wasn’t terribly convinced. We’ll worry about the details when we’re closer to that task. What’s that you have?”

  Cathal’s attention went to the bundle. When he shook it out, the form was obvious even though I still wondered about the rest. “House scouts and assassins frequently use cloaks like this to evade notice. They’re less effective in urban areas, daylight, and on the move, but move slowly enough at night and you’ll have far fewer problems. This particular one doesn’t counter magical means of detection, but it’s better than nothing.”

  I didn’t want to burst his bubble or tip my hand that Some Dude almost certainly made it redundant, so I half stood and took the cloak without any complaint. “I’m sure it’ll come in handy.”

  Cathal nodded and looked pensive for a moment. “There are a few people I need to go see. If you could, see if you can safely get into the operations offices. As useful as control over this facility might be, I expect we’ll find a more complete explanation for what came to pass here inside.”

  Eyebrow raised, I asked, “And if not?”

  “I’d advise you wait for my return before opening the stationmaster’s vault, provided you can on your own. No disrespect, but you’re clearly new to the House. The Lady’s blessing grants only so much grace. Her forgiveness comes at a rather steep price.”

  “Ah, yes, forgiveness. Screaming and then silence,” I muttered off-hand, echoing some distant memory from the internet.

  Cathal smirked and walked off. “For most, yes, that is usually how it goes.”

  The moment the door closed, I triggered Object Query on the cloak and then spent the next fifteen minutes sifting through literal walls of text sorted into a multitude of tabs and windows. Trying to make sense out of it all, I gathered that the materials were relatively high quality, resistant to heat, cold, and magic, and couldn’t be cut or pierced readily. As for the primary enchantment, the description wasn’t any more useful than Cathal’s.

  I spent all of ten seconds staring at the enchantment’s detail pane before feeling like I was just short of going cross-eyed. Time dependent index of refraction? Transient dispersion coefficient? Maximum aberration compensation? I closed the last window and shook my head. “Yeah, I can totally see why nobody willingly uses this system anymore. I’m not even sure Jenna would find that useful.”

  [A skill has been upgraded.]

  I sighed, triggered Object Query on myself, and went straight to the only section that made sense to check.

  CTRL-ALT-DEL – (Rank 2): This character has access to the following realm magics: Object Query (v1.1), syslogd.

  I chewed on my lip for a moment, pondering what the version change might mean, and then triggered Object Query on the cloak again. The window that came up bore only a passing resemblance to what I’d looked over only moments before. In terms of visual content, the only point of commonality was the menu bar at the top. The half dozen tabs on the first pane, each focused on a different aspect of the material, had been replaced with just one: summary.

  Frowning, I skimmed over the information and immediately began to wonder what had triggered the change and how it managed to be even less useful. Now thoroughly aggravated, I started going through the menus with an eye for changes. There. The View menu had a new entry at the bottom labeled, “UI/UX Access Level.” When I mentally focused on it, it expanded to a list on the right. Guest, User, and Admin. Huh. Why is it set to ‘Guest?’

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  I mentally shifted the checkmark to ‘User.’ The window flickered and multiple tabs appeared behind the summary tab, whose contents changed entirely as well. The main description was actually somewhat useful.

  [Stalker’s Cloak – Grants advantage on visual stealth checks at night and in woodland settings while movement restrictions are obeyed.]

  Now thoroughly curious, I went back to the UI/UX option. As my focus neared the admin option, electric static fuzzed out my perception. When I finally made sense of things again, the option was grayed out. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. Fine.”

  Just as I was about to close the window, it struck me that a specific point in space right before everything fuzzed out had felt like there was something there. I squinted at that point, which ended up being something that looked like a stuck pixel. What? How the hell do you get stuck pixels in a magical fantasy setting? I leaned in, trying to get a closer look at said stuck pixel, and suddenly my brain fuzzed once more.

  Now dealing with the start of what was certainly going to be a shitty migraine, I quietly growled a few four-letter words while rubbing my eyes. When I opened them a simple message hung in the air and dissolved into digital smoke as I read it. What is it about your family drives the two of you to stare at things that don’t want to be looked at?

  “What?” The access list was entirely greyed out now, but the current option hadn’t been there before: Power User. I spent a few minutes digging through my bag to get some Excedrin before triggering Object Query again.

  [Stalker’s cloak (Replica) – A copy of a copy is never as good as the original. This is a poorly made copy of that copy of a copy, a sliver of a scrap of a shade of its former glory. Does it make you harder to notice? Sure, if you don’t move and you happen to be in an area that’s dark or visually busy. The original Nightstalker cloak was a thing to behold, living darkness that blended and shifted to fit into any environment. This? It has been said that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, but this sort of flattery earns pepper spray and restraining orders, not praise.]

  A sudden throbbing pain in my skull tore a wince from me, and when I reflexively rubbed at my nose my hand came back red. Now thoroughly confused and in even more pain, it took me several moments to notice the text had changed.

  [Stalker’s cloak (Replica) – While serviceable as a decent cloak, the enchantment’s weave is flawed. As such, its ability to blend the wearer into their surroundings is greatly reduced and limited to slow movements in settings that already make visual identification difficult.]

  Pinching my nose, I seriously wondered what sort of fuckery was afoot. Did I piss off some deity I don’t know about? I mean, really, I only know three— Alex’s grinning face popped into my mind. Okay, three, possibly four, but I’ve only spoken to one directly. Who is Alex’s patron? Maybe I’m poking the bear here, somehow. Fine. I’ll do something else.

  The moment my fingers gripped the message book, I knew something felt off about it. Nothing different with the cover. I slowly flipped through the pages. Nah, all the stuffy zoologist crap hasn’t changed. Even my last exchange with Jenna was still there. Wait. Jenna should’ve written something by now.

  I pulled out my pen and scribbled a single word. Test. The ink looked normal as I wrote, but something about the way the pen slid across the page stood the hair on my forearms on end. If I was out on patrol, I would’ve taken a knee and brought my weapon up. Still unsure of what this feeling meant in this context, I made a silent prayer, triggered Object Query once more, and skimmed for anything that might be related.

  [Minor Syr Message Book – Mode: PAIRED – Connection status: Unsecure.]

  Unsecure? In a military context, that meant it was broadcasting in the clear, zero encryption, a definite commo no-no for channels carrying important information. But wait, isn’t this supposed to be point-to-point? How is that not secure? Is this normal? Nah, not taking any chances. Now thoroughly unsettled, I hoped Jenna remembered what the single word I wrote meant. Gingerbread.

  Wondering if I was just being paranoid, I carefully closed the book and returned it to its pocket, but the flavor of the feeling stuck in my head, and I couldn’t shake the idea that the book was being monitored by a third party somehow. Admittedly, this world didn’t have electronic warfare the way we did back home, but that didn’t mean something magical like it didn’t exist. If that was the case, the only safe bet was to stop using the book on the off chance something like triangulation was possible.

  Cradling my head in my hands, I fervently wished the Excedrin would kick in faster and that I was just being stupid. As much as I wanted to wait for the headache to fade, I’d had migraines before. No telling if it’s going to get worse instead of better. Best get off my ass and do something while I still can. At least the nosebleed stopped.

  I made my way over to the locked doors Cathal had pointed out the night before and came up short when a sense of restrained menace came over me just as I reached for the door. Part of me wanted to just grab the knob anyway, betting on weavewarper saving my ass, but I didn’t miss the promise nestled in the menace that told me it would be the last mistake I’d ever make.

  “Duly noted,” I muttered. “More than one way to skin a cat, anyway.”

  I triggered Object Query.

  [Door.]

  “Seriously? That’s all you’re going to give me?” I closed the window and triggered the realm magic once more.

  [Door.]

  Instead of closing the window, I swapped to the details tab and only barely managed to glimpse a single sentence toward the end before the window closed itself. I felt something dribble from my nose as the invisible vice around my brain cranked down. What the hell is, “If only hubris wasn’t the primary security vulnerability,” supposed to mean? Someone has to be fucking with me.

  I staggered back to the couch and slumped onto it. Caffeine. Caffeine helps with migraines. I briefly entertained the idea of just shotgunning another packet of drink mix dry but decided against it. Instead, I found myself eyeballing the small bag with the kain fruit emergency rations.

  I’m not about to say that my thought process was entirely rational at that point, given how the vice around my head seemed to just keep cranking down, but as I tossed one into my mouth, I was fixated on the only thoughts that hadn’t been squeezed out yet. Coffee had caffeine. Kain fruit was coffee. Kain fruit was also magical. My problem probably was too.